


Ready to be let down, now I'm heading for a meltdown.

by intherubble



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 03:16:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intherubble/pseuds/intherubble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is like a child who’s all good intentions but doesn’t understand the concept of <i>delicate </i>and <i>breakable</i>. So when he takes it upon himself to learn basic massage techniques, to help when Harry doesn’t have time for his regular chiropractic visits, Liam knows something is going to be broken and just really hopes it isn’t his back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ready to be let down, now I'm heading for a meltdown.

Louis is like a child who’s all good intentions but doesn’t understand the concept of  _delicate_ and  _breakable_. So when he takes it upon himself to learn basic massage techniques, to help when Harry doesn’t have time for his regular chiropractic visits, Liam knows something is going to be broken and just really hopes it isn’t his back.

-

“Jees, could they make those signing tables any lower? I strain my neck to look up at girls who aren’t even five foot.” The words are barely out of Liam’s mouth before he realizes he’s made a huge tactical error. Louis pauses where he’s changing into his pajama briefs and turns slowly on his heels so Liam has a good amount of time to anticipate what’s coming.

“Aww, L _eeeyum_ , is your back hurting you?” Louis practically croons as he advances towards where Liam’s sitting on the edge of his mattress.

Liam can feel anxiousness pulling at his gut already, jerking his hand away from where it was rubbing the bones at the back of his neck, “No, nope, fine, I’m fine, what gave you that idea?”

Louis grins sharklike, with enough teeth to fill two rows, “Give it up, Liam. you’ve officially volunteered to be my test guinea pig for the night.” Liam wants to make a point about his lack of consent in the matter but he knows the look in Louis’ eye, like his feet are sunk in and he’s not moving til he gets what he wants and Liam doesn’t think he has the energy left in him for a wrestling match tonight. Would probably make his neck worse and Louis even more smug about his victory. 

“I...” he starts, and he can see Louis already opening his mouth to pester him, so he just sighs, feels the fight drain out of his shoulders, “fine.”

“Very good,” Louis grins all pleased and looks like he wants to pat Liam on the head but realizes Liam may not be able to repress the urge to break his wrist so he refrains. “Okay, up. On your stomach, shirt off.”

“What? No!” Liam hates how prudish he sounds but he already knows he’s not going to be leaving this experience with his dignity intact but he’d like it if he could keep his modesty, thanks. 

Louis crosses his arms and rolls his eyes like Liam is a small child that needs simple concepts explained in slow short sentences, “I need to see your muscles, okay? I’m still not that great at it and it’ll help.” Liam’s pretty sure that’s bullshit but is too busy wondering if Louis has the capability to paralyze him. Louis isn’t  _that_ strong, but he’s been building up his arm strength and what if there’s some secret nerve Louis hasn’t learned to stay away from yet and he presses too hard and Liam can’t walk for the rest of his life. 

Louis apparently takes Liam’s silent mental crisis as permission because there are suddenly grabby hands at his waist, lifting the hem of his tee so he gets caught up in it when he flails while it’s still over his head. Liam slaps Louis’ hands away, yelping, “ _hey_!” and resisting the urge to cover his chest like he has tits and just lost his bikini top. Louis tosses Liam’s shirt across the room in a ball matter of factly and prods him in the sternum, "There we go. Now roll over like a good boy.”

Liam looks up at the ceiling desperately for an escape, an intervention from god,  _anything_. But the world is against him today and nothing happens aside from Louis tapping his foot impatiently. Liam stands with his shoulders slumped and flops over onto his face so the bed bounces with the momentum of his surrender.

“Wait...hold on.” Liam hears shuffling around but can’t bring himself to look until the intensity of light coming through his eyelids diminishes and he squints one open to see that Louis has draped a thin red v-neck over the standing lamp so everything’s bathed in soft dim red light. “For  _relaxation_ ,” Louis explains without keeping a straight face and Liam groans into the pillow. He hopes they’ll write ‘ _Cause of Death: Louis Tomlinson_ ’ on his tombstone.

“Stop being so dramatic,” Louis says as he knee walks onto the bed and Liam has to choke back a laugh at _Louis_ telling him that. 

“Right-o, let’s get it over with,” Liam says a little desperately, only now contemplating how Louis plans on going about doing this, with his question answered soon after when he feels Louis shift his weight and swing a leg over so he’s straddling the small of Liam’s back, warm solid and heavy.

“Louis, this is...” Liam swallows thickly, not sure exactly. He knows Louis is just in his boxers and white cotton undershirt and Liam’s own sweats are thin and washworn, the heat of their skin bleeding together.

“Shhh,  _shhh_ , Liam Payne,” Louis murmurs softly, settling down, “I’m going to make you feel better with my magic fingers.” Liam tries to let out the air in his lungs, knows Louis will comment on how tense he is in some mock professional tone, but it comes out stuttery and he is in  _so much trouble_.

The air in the hotelroom is overcooled and Liam feels like he’s swimming in it, like the skin covered by Louis is above the surface and in the sun. Louis lays his hands down under the bumps of Liam’s shoulder blades like he’s leaving prints, starts to smooth over the planes of Liam’s back in broad strokes. Liam’s skin feels chill and clammy from the air conditioning but like Louis’ hands are tracing fever down his sides, dry heat bringing up goose bumps in their wake.

The urge to throw Louis off and hide in the bathroom grows with the ugly shame as he can feel himself get heavy between his legs, arousal growing slow and sluggish with Louis’ soothing touches. Wants to hate Louis for doing it to him, for the way his smell clouds his head and makes him lovesick and stupid. 

“S _hh, shhh_ ,” Louis is still whispering like Liam hasn’t already submitted completely, isn’t boneless and melting into the mattress at the way Louis’ palm heels drag pressure so his muscles give and dip where they trail. Louis hums some broken tune Liam thinks might be  _*Nsync_  and pushes up the line of Liam’s spine, into his hair to scratch his nails there in a move Liam thinks is alarmingly unnecessary. Thinks he can feel Louis smirking as he tugs on the hair at the base of his neck and has to bury his face in the pillow to stifle any embarrassing noises that might escape, flexes his hips into the mattress involuntarily.

Louis continues on like that for what seems ages, Liam growing drowsy and hard as one sweep of hand turns into another.

Louis brings his hands down the sides of Liam’s neck, squeezing at the muscle there, to clasp over the knobs of his shoulders. He must be leaning over because when he says softly, "Turn over, Li.” It sounds breathy and close to Liam’s ear.

Fear surges suddenly in the pit of Liam’s stomach but it does nothing to ease the way his dick is swollen and obvious in his pants, Louis’ fingers still tracing small intricate patterns on his skin. He feels his chest start to pick up, breathing heavy and trying to think of a way out. If it was his neck hurting him Louis shouldn’t need to see his front but Liam was a fool to believe it would be that easy to get off and that was  _such_ a terrible choice of phrasing right now.

“Liam...  _hey_ ,” Louis says cautiously and Liam feels pressure at his hips like Louis’s trying to press his thighs together but Liam’s torso’s in the way. “It’s  _okay_ ,” even quieter but no less firm, like he _knows_ , “now turn  _over_.” 

Liam tries to take a deep calming breath, lets it out through his teeth and stretches to look around at Louis’ face but his head can’t turn enough like this to make it out, everything cast red and shadowy. Louis goes up on his knees so liam can roll over. Liam steels himself and he keeps his eyes scrunched shut because he doesn’t think he can take the look on Louis’ face when he realizes Liam’s got a stiffy like a thirteen-year-old waking up from a wet dream. 

But he just feels Louis’ warm dry palms land on the flat of his breastbone and rest there, the silence unfolding between them. Liam can’t take the horrible anticipation anymore and cracks his eyes open only to see Louis staring down at him with a quiet intensity, fondness creeping at the corners of his mouth and Liam wants to pull the pillowcase over his head to hide from it because he can’t take Louis being graciously  _understanding_ about this. Louis digs his nails into Liam’s chest like he’s trying to get his attention. Liam’s gaze finds Louis’ face and Louis dips his chin so Liam’s eyes naturally follow the line down Louis’ body and... _oh_.

Louis is still up on his knees above Liam and his cock is hard in his briefs, trapped and straining lewdly against the material. The air punches out of Liam’s lungs and with his eyes still locked on the small dark splotch where the head is pressing wetness, Louis slowly lowers himself back down to settle on Liam’s lap, shifting slightly so the hard line of Liam’s cock finds the groove at the seam of his shorts.

Liam chokes on an inhale and tries to say, “L _ou_..” but he feels paralyzed and Louis is shushing him with soothing noises. Louis starts up a slow massage again, kneading the flesh of Liam’s chest, down under his pecs to the sensitive planes of his stomach. His hands rise and fall with the movements of Liam’s breathing and he realizes he’s  _shuddering_ , arms laying uselessly at his sides, stunned still.

Then Louis is pressing  _down_ harder but it’s not just to loosen Liam’s straining muscles, he’s using it as  _leverage_. He’s working his hips down on Liam’s in a swivel, a pressure that’s starting to burn Liam up from the inside. He sees Louis pull his bottom lip between his teeth but it already looks all bitten and swollen, like he’d been chewing on it the whole time.

Louis’ hands make their way back up Liam’s chest but they don’t stop at his shoulders, gets Liam’s arms over his head with encouraging touches til he’s able to slide his palms over Liam’s collarbones up the ticklish skin of his inner arms and wrists til he’s tangling their fingers together, knuckles bumping against the headboard.

Liam’s panting now, grinding his cock up against the maddenly slow circle of Louis’ arse. Louis squeezes their palms together, shifting his hips down slightly so Liam can feel himself connecting more with the heavy weight of Louis’ balls, lets out a bitten off whine.

They keep rutting at each other like that and Louis’ head lolls to the side, exposing the column of his neck Liam wishes he could taste. He looks wrecked, hair sticking to his forehead as they work up a sweat, color high on his cheeks blending into the red of the room around them. His mouth looks raw and  _used_ , his teeth working it over every time Liam thrusts up. Liam wonders if that’s what it would look like if he got his cock between his lips, dick deep into the back of Louis’ throat.

Wonders if Louis would let Liam fuck him. If he’d bounce on Liam’s cock like he’s mimicking right now, tug on his own cock til he came all over his belly, Liam seated inside him to the hilt.

Every little fantasy Liam’s refused to entertain about Louis, kept safe and locked in the back of his mind labelled _Do Not Touch_ , comes flooding out. Louis biting a pillow as he reaches back to open himself for Liam fucking him into the mattress, Louis mouthing sloppily at Liam’s cock from between his knees, Louis’ face covered in Liam’s jizz and licking it up.

Their eyes are locked and Liam wonders if Louis is thinking the same things, if he can see the visions playing like movies on Liam’s pupils because Louis’ gaze is so full of heat it feels like a brand. Louis keens as Liam’s thrusts get rougher, jostling his body with the force of them, but then Louis is shuddering, curling in on himself and his knees squeezing against Liam’s sides convulsively. Liam can feel the twitching of Louis’ cock as it kicks and spurts in his pants and his back locks up in sympathy, shooting his release in shivery pulses that make his skin tacky and his thighs tremble. 

Liam lays there panting up at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath as Louis sits over him, shoulders hunched and heaving. He stretches his fingers, the almost painful grip they had twined with Louis’ making his knuckles ache.

He’s not sure what this was to Louis but he’s not the type that can just have flippant mutual orgasms with someone like it’s nothing. He wants to  _touch_ , he wants to  _kiss_ , wants _L_ _ouis_. He cautiously disentangles his hands from Louis’, Louis peering down at him curiously like he isn’t sure if Liam’s going to bolt or not.

Liam lays his palm carefully, intentionally, on Louis’ thigh, slides it from his hip up the side of his body til he’s got a grip on the back of his neck. Hopes he can settle his nerves enough that he doesn’t shake because he’s propping up on an elbow to bring Louis’ face down to meet his. But Louis makes a pleased contented sigh when Liam sucks on his bottom lip so he thinks they’re going to be okay.


End file.
